


Whumptober 2020 16 A Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

by frankie_mcstein



Series: Whumptober 2020 [16]
Category: Magnum P.I. (TV 2018)
Genre: Anger as a way of hiding concern, Attempted robbery, Gen, How'd you guess, Kidnapping, Protective Ohana, Whumptober 2020, car crashes, hospital stays, hurt magnum, migraines, minor bullet wounds, yes that's Higgins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:06:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27041710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frankie_mcstein/pseuds/frankie_mcstein
Summary: Whumptober 2020 prompt 16- A Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad DayAll Magnum wanted was to put his carefully thought out plan into action, make some money, and chip away at some debts that had been building. Unfortunately for him, the criminal elements of Oahu have other plans.
Series: Whumptober 2020 [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1947172
Comments: 14
Kudos: 38





	Whumptober 2020 16 A Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

**Author's Note:**

> Technically this is more than one day. I totally lost track of the timeline. So it's more like A Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Week. Poor Tommy.

_ I had a plan for this month, really. Yeah, I know, me and plans don't exactly mix. But, you see, I  _ needed  _ a plan. After crashing Robin's Lamborghini, something I was absolutely not at fault for, I'd been hit with a repair bill that would have seen me declaring bankruptcy if Higgins hadn't stepped in.  _

_ And yes, okay, if I really were faultless, I wouldn't have had to pay anything. Fine, I admit it. Maybe I was going a little too fast. In my defense, a man's life was on the line. Mine. And I care about my life quite a bit.  _

_ Anyway, big bill, taken care of by Higgins. Again. I still hadn't really made much progress paying her back for the repair work on the Ferrari that had seen me needing to take the Lambo. And I still hadn't actually been able to pay her much for being my partner. Technically, I hadn't paid her anything. Although I had bought her several cups of coffee.  _

_ I was starting to feel pretty guilty. So I worked out how much I owed her, and then I worked out how many days work it would take to pay her back while paying her a wage of some description too. Once I was done shaking my head at the number, I settled down to rustle up a case. _

…

"I'm so sorry, Magnum." Higgins really did sound sorry, and it made Magnum feel awful. 

He took one hand off the wheel and squeezed her hand gently, hating the crestfallen expression on her face. She had been determined to head out with him, telling him over and over she was just tired. But they'd barely made it a quarter of an hour away from the estate before she had been forced to ask him to turn around.

"You don't have to apologize for being ill, Higgy." He tried to keep his voice low, knowing from the way her eyes kept squeezing themselves closed that she had a pounding headache.

She mumbled something that sounded like "stupid migraine," but, he supposed, it could have been something about a biplane. Although why she would be trying to start a conversation about the Wright brothers was beyond him. But he'd always found the blonde to be just a little beyond his understanding. Chances were, however, that she was complaining about the migraine.

He just shook his head as he waited for the gate to open, pretty sure that, whatever it was that she had said, Higgins wasn't expecting a reply. 

"We're back," he whispered. He'd never had a migraine before, but he remembered his uncle suffering with them. How the man would be perfectly fine one minute and doubled over in agony the next, pleading with them all to turn out the lights and to please, for the love of all that was good in the world, stop being so loud.

"I don't feel well." Higgins' voice shook slightly, and she pressed one hand over her mouth.

Magnum clambered out of the car, hurried around to the passenger side, and then stood still.

"Would it be better for you to walk?" he asked, perfectly prepared to carry Higgins but not wanting to somehow make her feel worse. 

"I don't think I can." 

Oh no. She actually sounded near tears. He'd seen Higgins angry, scared, determined, tired, vulnerable. But the only time he'd ever heard her close to tears was when she had told him about Richard. 

Magnum opened the car door and slid his hands under her, deciding that, if it was the wrong move, she wouldn't hesitate to let him know. He half-expected her to snap at him to put her down. Instead she just sort of… nestled against him. That was concerning.

He made his way to one of the downstairs bathrooms and lowered her gently to the floor. Then hurried off to find Kumu, trying to ignore the sound of retching that followed him down the hallway.

…

_ Well, on the bright side, with Higgy too sick to work, I didn't need to worry about paying her wages. The downside, of course, was that Higgy was too sick to work. I'd kinda gotten used to having someone with me more often than not.  _

_ That's why, when I finally made it to Rick's bar for the meeting that I was now over half an hour late for, I didn't spot the warning signs until it was too late.  _

_ At least, that's my excuse. And this is my story, so you can't really argue with me. _

…

Magnum wished he'd paid attention to his instincts. They'd yelled at him that Decon looked nervous. He'd argued that lots of people were nervous about hiring a P.I. His intuition had screamed that the guy was bad news. He'd ignored it and decided the poor man was just stressed.

And now he was handcuffed, his head was throbbing, and he was squashed on the floor in the back of Decon's car. At least, he was in the car the guy had driven to La Mariana. It could have been anyone's, really. 

_ This isn't exactly helping, _ he told himself, trying to ignore the way his stomach was churning in favor of focusing on getting the hairpin off of his boxers.

"It's an old spy trick," Higgins had told them all one night. She'd had their rapt attention; even Magnum, who had worked for military intelligence, was fascinated by the odd bits of spycraft she would occasionally share. "You slip a bobby pin through the stitching in the waistband of your underwear and angle it so it runs along the seam. Nine times out of ten, a pat down will miss it."

She was right. Decon had given him a quick search after hitting him over the head, while Magnum was still too dazed to stop him, and hadn't felt the pin. Now, if Magnum could just get the stupid thing…

He felt a surge of triumph as he pulled his hands up, hairpin gripped firmly between his thumb and forefinger. Some careful wriggling, one heart-stopping moment when the car had hit a bump and he'd nearly dropped it, and he had his improvised lockpick twisting around in the keyhole.

_ Pressure down… lift… turn… _ he coached himself, running through the steps in his mind. He'd gotten a lot better at picking locks in a very short amount of time, but he thought doing it with his hands behind his back, essentially working blind, was always going to cause him problems. He wondered how Katsumoto would react if Magnum asked to borrow his cuffs. If anything, the detective would probably be all too happy to snap his cuffs closed on Magnum, and he quickly decided he would most probably end up being thrown in a jail cell for good measure.

_ Probably best not to give Gordy ideas. _

A quiet click and his left wrist was free. Magnum took a split second to celebrate a job well done, then got to work on his right wrist. With no way of knowing where they were headed, he had no way of knowing how much longer they would be driving, and he didn't want to still be fumbling with his cuffs when they got there.

Which, if the engine being turned off was any indication, was right now. Magnum wanted to swear but didn't have the time to waste. He pushed the hairpin into his back pocket, keeping it safe, and grabbed the open cuff with his free hand. He'd keep up the pretense until Decon got him out of the car, then take the guy out, and then worry about getting rid of the cuffs altogether.

The door opened, and Magnum tipped his head back.

"You're gonna pay, Mr. Stuck Up Private Eye."

"I prefer Private Investigator." He regretted it instantly as Decon ducked down and punched him. It wasn't the strongest of blows, but it landed on Magnum's temple and, coming on top of the previous blow to his head, was more than strong enough to send him reeling for a moment. He felt hands sliding under his arms and was just able to keep his grip on the cuffs. 

He dropped down hard on the ground, unable to catch himself. The shock of pain cleared his head a little and, as Decon knelt next to him, Magnum threw his left hand out. The punch landed square on Decon's face, breaking his nose.

Decon fell back, Magnum rolled and pulled his legs under himself, moving to stand over his 'client,' and put on as menacing a look as he could muster past his sickening headache.

"Why did you kidnap me?" he demanded, hoping the rolling sickness he was feeling wasn't detracting from the intimidating air he was trying to project.

"My wife left me because of you!" Decon spat. "You showed her pictures. Pictures of me with my girlfriend!" Decon moved as if he was trying to stand up, and Magnum moved closer, not bothering to search his memory for the man's face.

"If you had a girlfriend, then your wife left you because of  _ you." _ He was forcing the words out past gritted teeth, trying desperately not to throw up. There was nothing quite like vomiting on the person you were trying to scare to ease their fear. 

"I should have grabbed that pretty partner of yours instead."

Now, intellectually, Magnum knew that Higgins was very highly trained. She had come out on top in both fist fights and gun fights, had hacked no end of databases, had resisted waterboarding… But emotionally? Well, she was part of his ohana, and this guy was threatening her.

Decon sneered at him, and Magnum, head spinning, stomach rolling, back aching, felt a surge of anger. He pulled back his fist and caught Decon on his cheekbone, hard enough to send his head snapping to the side. His second punch knocked the guy out, just as Katsumoto climbed out of his cruiser.

“Magnum? What are you doing? That’s assault!” Katsumoto had an angry look on his face as he shouted across the distance between himself and the P.I.

Magnum turned to face him, and the entire world shifted on its axis. Gravity became liquid, the horizon vanished, and Magnum dropped like a rock. Gray was clouding his vision, and there was a buzzing in his ears. 

_ ‘There goes my plan for today,’  _ he thought sadly and then passed right out.

…

_ So, it would be pretty safe to say that things didn’t exactly go according to plan. In fact, my plan was pretty messed up by Decon. I had to spend the night at the hospital because I blacked out, most of the next day was spent answering questions at HPD, and the day after that was spent with Rick and T.C. hovering, assuring themselves I really was okay. Even Higgins managed to ignore the last of her migraine to wander into the guest house every now and then. _

_ Don’t get me wrong, I could have done without T.C. falling asleep on me, but I have no objections to spending an entire day with my family. What I did object to was the sorry state of my bank account. Even the nominal wage I was pulling down from my security consultant position with Robin wasn’t enough for me to start paying Higgy back, and my military pension wasn’t even enough to keep gas in the Ferrari. _

_ I needed a case. A good one. And soon. _

...

Life could be a real pain in the neck sometimes. He hadn’t had a single case in over two weeks and then, when a client had come his way, the man had turned out to be the villain. Of course, if Higgins had been available to help out, maybe do a deep dive like she usually did on their clients, they could have figured it out a lot sooner. But a storm had ruined the grounds of the estate, destroyed part of the roof, and capsized Robin’s racing yacht, and she had her hands full trying to deal with the landscapers, contractors, and shipyard.

Magnum had figured it out eventually; he really was capable of doing his job alone, despite what his friends seemed to think. Of course, Mr. Lloyd hadn’t been happy when Magnum had shown up with Katsumoto in tow. He’d actually had the nerve to say he had only hired the ‘dumb local P.I.’ to try to convince his business partner that he wasn’t the one embezzling their company's funds. At least the guy’s partner had agreed to cover Magnum’s fee as a gesture of gratitude. But it hardly seemed to make up for the fact that Magnum had barely slept the previous night, too busy combing through the bank records Higgins had somehow found the time to dig up for him.

He strongly suspected she had done the tech work instead of eating, and, as he left Mr. Lloyd’s office, decided to blow a few of his hard-earned dollars on a couple of overpriced coffees, trusting the caffeine would wake him up a little and serve as a suitable ‘thank you’ to Higgins. But, as he headed back to the car, a harassed-looking woman juggling four bags, two kids, one dog, and a cell phone had walked into him. The coffees went flying out of his hands, thankfully missing all the pedestrians, to drop to the sidewalk and burst open. The woman apologized and offered to buy him more, but she looked near tears, and he didn’t have the heart to take her money. Instead, he assured her that he was supposed to be cutting down on caffeine anyway and sent her on her way.

The interlude with Random Woman, Destroyer of Coffee, held him up just long enough that a parking enforcement officer was scribbling happily on a ticket when Magnum got back to the Ferrari. His argument that the car was only parked for so long because he had been viciously assaulted by a distracted pedestrian was dismissed. He was handed a ticket for $85 along with a half-hearted, “Have a good day, sir.” 

He had half a mind to call Katsumoto and try to get him to scrub the ticket, but he wasn’t the detective's favorite person at the moment. A rare misstep on Magnum’s part had seen Katsumoto arrest an innocent person in connection with the drug smuggling case Magnum had found himself caught up in nearly three weeks back. Magnum and Higgins had realized where they'd gone wrong, fixed it, and handed HPD the right guy, but Katsumoto had been less than appreciative. Magnum had been told in no uncertain terms to stay well away from HPD in general and Katsumoto specifically and, for once, agreed with his friends that he should listen.

So he climbed into the Ferrari, which immediately flashed a warning light at him to tell him at least one tire was unhappily low on pressure, and headed for home where, if he was really lucky, he might be able to get something resembling a coffee. Robin had recently fallen in love with a certain type of coffee machine and bought one each for Magnum and Higgins, insisting it would change their lives. After three days of poring over the manual, Magnum still had no idea how to get a decent cup of coffee out of the wretched thing. Naturally, Higgins claimed she didn’t have the slightest problem getting it to work. Magnum strongly suspected she had never even tried to use it and had, in fact, hidden a kettle somewhere.

With visions of coffee cups dancing through his head, it was no wonder that Magnum was a fraction of a second slower than normal to react when the truck came racing through the red light and across the junction. Instead of swerving and mitigating the collision, Magnum was almost directly in the truck's path. The truck caught the Ferrari on the driver’s side and sent it spinning into a telephone pole, leaving Magnum winded and a little dazed.

The truck driver came running, horror on his face, shouting into his cell as he yanked fruitlessly at the door. “It’s jammed! It’s jammed!” he yelled at whoever he had called. “What do I do?”

“It’s okay,” Magnum called, hoping whoever was on the other end of the phone could hear him. “It’s a convertible; I can climb out.” That was somehow the wrong thing to say.

“He’s right. There’s no roof! Did I do that?” 

The man sounded more frantic than Magnum would have thought possible, and he found himself wanting to put a hand on the guy’s shoulder and try to talk him down a little. He could hear a calm and professional sounding voice coming over the line and figured the man had dialed nine-one-one. He just hoped it was an experienced operator who was stuck trying to deal with this near-hysterical mess.

For his part, he simply swung his legs over the crumpled mess of the door, waved off the hands that tried to support him, and staggered over to the side of the road. He sat with his head in his hands; anyone watching would have been forgiven for thinking he was in pain, or even in shock. In actual fact, he was thinking of how expensive the Ferrari was going to be to get fixed up and wondering if the truck driver’s insurance was going to cover the cost of the repairs. The idea that he might be about to get stuck with yet another massive figure to add to the already terrifying amount he owed Higgins— there was no way he could pay a repair bill right now and all Rick and T.C.’s money was tied up in La Mariana; it was Higgy or bust— was enough to make him feel a little hysterical himself. 

It hardly seemed fair that a tiny fragment of a moment could be responsible for so much damage, but Magnum couldn’t argue with the evidence that was currently scattered across the tarmac, glinting in the sun. He didn’t even want to look at the poor Ferrari and see the gouges that had bitten deep into the carbon fiber of the body.

A few people tried to talk to him as he sat there, but he wasn’t too interested in answering their questions. Until the random by-passers blurred and became EMTs. Even Magnum knew better than to try to ignore EMTs. He did do his best to assure them that he was perfectly fine though; he really didn’t want to go to the hospital again so soon. And he really was more worried about the truck driver whose face was looking increasingly gray.

He sat on the curb and watched as the Ferrari was lifted to the back of the tow truck and wondered idly if he could convince someone to come and pick him up. Which was when he remembered Rick and T.C. were both on the mainland, something to do with fuel supplies for Island Hoppers. And Kumu was visiting her family to spend time with her newest grandson and would definitely not appreciate a call from a stranded Magnum. Which left Higgins as his only option. While he knew she did care for him and the other members of their merry little band, he was never sure if a request for help would be met with immediate assistance or an hour of sarcasm. Especially when she already had so much to do. He winced as he remembered himself telling her that he could handle everything just fine on his own.

_ “Magnum, how did the wrap-up go?” _ She sounded genuinely interested, and he hoped that was a sign that she was finally getting on top of her workload.

“The bad guy got arrested, and it sounds like his partner will be able to get the money back.”

_ “That’s great; well done. So why do you sound so awful?” _

He huffed a laugh at the question. “It’s been kind of a long day.” He started to explain everything that had happened, but Higgins interrupted him to point out that it was still morning and so he couldn’t possibly judge the entire day. He rolled his eyes and wondered, not for the first time, if she did it because she couldn’t help herself or if she was trying to keep him on his toes.

“Look, Higgy, I need a ride.” He winced as he heard her suck in a deep breath before she responded.

_ “You left here in Mr. Masters’ Ferrari.” _ Her tone of voice was a mix of disbelief and concern, and Magnum didn’t try to kid himself that the concern was for him.

“I got into a bit of a fender bender.”

_ “And you can’t possibly call a taxi or an Uber because…?” _ She waited for him to answer for a good five seconds before sighing.  _ “Where are you?”  _ She sounded exasperated. Even though there was a definite undercurrent of worry in her tone, he gave her the address of the cafe he was going to wait at without saying anything else.  _ “Okay. I need to finish a few things here, but I'll be there as soon as I can. Oh, and Magnum? I’d like it on the record that I am only doing this because I’m sure your friends will never let me hear the end of it if I make you walk.” _

He smirked a little at that, but she hung up before he could say anything, not that he had any sort of a response ready. His back was starting to ache in a way that made him think he shouldn’t have been so quick to wave off the paramedics, and all he wanted to do was make his way to the cafe he could see on the street corner, find a comfortable position, and stay that way until Higgins arrived. 

He took his time standing up, fighting the urge to stretch his back. A persistent throb somewhere around the base of his spine warned him that stretching was bad. There was a dull sort of ache in his neck that told him he would be lucky to be able to move his head by morning. And his legs felt oddly shaky for someone who had once been involved in a fifteen-hour mortar bombardment and had come out cracking jokes.

The waitress, a young woman with far too many wrinkles and stress lines for someone who looked to be in her late twenties, came hurrying over as Magnum walked in.

"I saw the crash. You poor thing, you must have been terrified." She looked so genuinely concerned that Magnum bit back on his instinctive, sarcastic, response. 

"It certainly wasn't relaxing." Okay, so he let a little sarcasm leak through. But he really was starting to feel like he'd… well, like he'd been hit by a truck. The waitress seemed nice though, so he smiled after he spoke and she waved him to a seat. 

Magnum wanted to simply drop down onto the blue leatherette. But he knew that would be a bad idea, jolting his complaining muscles. So he lowered himself gingerly down instead, hands splayed on the table, balancing his weight on his arms. It was the most relaxed he'd felt in days 

So, naturally, a man in a balaclava came bursting into the cafe not long after Magnum had managed to ease himself into the seat. The guy was waving a gun around in a way that said he didn’t have the first clue about gun safety, and Magnum was standing up again before he could stop to think about what he was doing.

“Hey there.” Everyone in the cafe seemed to blink in confusion at the friendly greeting. “Looks like you’re having a rough day, too.” He kept his hands out, trying to look non-threatening, and took small steps forward as he spoke. “I get it. My day has pretty much sucked. Although, someone pointed out to me that it’s still morning.” Another step, then another, and everyone seemed to be holding their breath. Everyone, that is, except the idiot with the gun.

“What does that matter? And quit moving!”

The gun was suddenly very still and pointed directly at Magnum’s chest. That was okay though; that meant no one would get hit by a stray bullet if the gun went off. 

“You can’t judge the entire day yet because the day is only just beginning.”

“It’s starting off pretty damn bad!”

The gun was moving again, shaking as the man’s hand trembled, and Magnum took another step forward. He noticed the waitress was carefully and slowly ushering people behind the counter, and he was desperate to keep this guy’s attention on him, stop him from seeing his hostages escaping through the kitchen.

“I told you to stay back!”

Something clattered and everything slowed down. Magnum saw the man’s eyes leave his, saw him start to turn, the barrel of the gun following, and he did the only thing he could think of; he threw himself forward and wrapped both hands around the gun.

The man tried to yank the gun out of Magnum’s grip, but he hung on and threw his weight into an awkward shoulder barge. The man stumbled and fell, and Magnum fell with him. The quiet jingle of the bell over the door was lost in the sharp bang of the gun going off.

Magnum felt a white hot pain burn its way along his side, and his grip suddenly felt weak. Someone was yelling something, and something was tugging on his arm. He resisted the pull as best he could, trying to keep the gun tucked between himself and this idiot wannabe robber. Didn’t these people realize he was trying to stop them from getting shot? 

“Magnum?” That voice sounded oddly calm for someone who was caught up in an attempted armed robbery. “Thomas.”

Huh, oddly commanding. He tried to force his eyes open, not too sure why he was feeling so tired. He was curious as to how this voice knew his name. His eyes struggled to focus for a second, and then the world shifted into view again. Ah, that explained it.

“Hey, Higgy.” 

"Let go of the gun," she coaxed, her voice the most bizarre mixture of authoritative and concerned. Magnum wanted to argue with her and explain that the gun needed to stay where it was, that people were in danger and he was trying to protect them. But she was wrapping her hands over his and he couldn't seem to make his fingers keep their grip. He felt the gun slip out of his grasp and was only slightly mollified by the knowledge that it was now in Higgins' capable hands.

…

_ Well, you won't get any prizes for guessing what happened next. Another trip to the hospital for yours truly. In fact, it was a four-day stay this time. I don't mind admitting I was going a little stir-crazy by the time the doc finally agreed that I could be discharged. _

_ Of course, he added the proviso that I had to have someone watching me the entire time. I'd expected Rick and T.C. to speak up, say they'd be staying with me. And they did, but only after Higgins had assured the doctor that  _ she _ would be at my side twenty-four-seven. _

_ I'm not sure why I imagined for even a moment that she wouldn't have been serious. _

…

"It's not a question of ability, it's… it's the principle of the thing!"

"The principle of the thing?" 

Magnum would have groaned when he saw the raised eyebrow if he didn't know for a fact that any reaction from him would just encourage her. The smirks on his friends' faces were doing enough of that as it was.

"We're talking about someone helping you to stand without putting pressure on your stitches. Not, oh, I don't know, going out to get in Katsumoto's way while he does his job and ending up nearly destroying a three hundred and fifty thousand dollar sports car."

She was taking far too much pleasure in throwing that figure around.

"The other guy's insurance is covering the repairs." It sounded lame even to him. Higgins didn't even blink. He may as well have not spoken.

"And then, to add injury to insult, you go and get yourself shot."

Magnum blinked as something suddenly occurred to him. He felt his eyes narrow in contemplation as he stared at Higgins, wondering about this revelation.

"You were worried. And not about the car, either. You were worried about me." He wasn't sure what stopped her, the words or the surprise in his voice. But, whatever she had been about to say, she let the words dry up on her lips in favour of staring at him like he had suddenly grown a second head.

" _ Of course _ I was worried." It sounded like she was speaking through clenched teeth.

Out of the corner of his eye, Magnum caught Rick and T.C. exchange a look, one that clearly said 'uh-oh.'

"You told me it was a minor accident. 'A bit of a fender bender' were, I believe, your exact words. Imagine my surprise when, halfway to your location, I got a call from the garage informing me that, based on their visual inspection, the car was close to being a write-off." Her hands were on her hips in a classic "I'm angry with you" pose. 

But Magnum, still poking the thought that he was the focus of her concern, thought he could see something else in her body language.

"Imagine all the things I was imagining for the rest of that drive. All the various injuries I was picturing you having and hiding from me. And then try to imagine how it felt to see the gun in that man's hands and to be sure that he was going to shoot and to know that I was too far away to do anything about it!"

Magnum wasn't too sure how they'd gone from him not wanting Higgins to help him walk to the bathroom to her suddenly and angrily telling everyone just how much she cared for him. He held up his hands, hoping to stop the flow of words.

"I'm sorry." He was serious and hoped she could see that. "It was just… one thing after another. None of it was deliberate." He offered her a small smile and held her gaze for the very long silence that followed before she finally sighed and sat back down.

"I appreciate that you didn't set out to get injured. It just seems to keep happening somehow." Her eyes slid over to him, a hint of mischief in them now. "Perhaps this twenty-four hour supervision is something we should consider implementing permanently?

If it wouldn't have pulled on his stitches, he would have thrown a cushion at her.


End file.
